


such great heights

by pugilists



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, Trans Male Character, accidental misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 22:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16798375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugilists/pseuds/pugilists
Summary: Warden Surana learns more about himself than he'd ever have expected when they find the Dalish.





	such great heights

**Author's Note:**

> had a headcanon a while ago that the dalish were pretty open and accepting abt trans people, to the point where they'd spent a long time perfecting methods of medical transitioning. anyway this is mostly to expand on that so enjoy!

Despite the anxieties he had about meeting the Dalish, Surana almost felt eager to finally reach their encampment. He did not relent in their lengthy hike around the Brecillian Forest as he silently tried to ignore the companions following him. 

Behind him, Alistair and Morrigan bickered, occasionally trying to involve Surana to prove a point to the other. They shut up when he threatened to cast a winter’s grasp on them but went back to trading sharp insults after a few moments of peace. Barkspawn ran off at the sound of every bush rustling, only to return barking and panting and empty-handed. Only Zevran had seemed to sense Surana’s growing irritation with the group and had decided to quietly keep him company on their trek from the camp to the outskirts of the Brecillian Forest. Surana briefly wondered if Leliana, Sten, and Wynne were having a better time back at the camp.

“I get it! You think I’m a moron, not even studying under the Chantry was enough for me, Alistair the Fool. Can you talk about anything else?” Alistair’s exasperated voice had started rising in volume, a sign that Morrigan was finally getting under his skin. Surana continued looking ahead while Zevran sighed with amusement nearby.

“Well, I could discuss your uneven jawline, your unfortunate habit of snoring like a mabari, the terrible poetry I’ve seen you writing about-”

“Ok, ok! You can shut up now,” Alistair grumbled as Morrigan laughed in victory.

“Don’t want her to know about your late-night musings, is that it?” she teased. Surana’s ears involuntarily twitched in annoyance.

He could feel Alistair’s eyes on the back of his head, could imagine him blushing furiously as though Surana wasn’t already aware that he wrote endearingly awful poetry about him. Alistair was terrible at being subtle. 

“Nearly there,” Zevran murmured. Surana glanced over at him, Zevran was looking out into the forest surrounding them, clearly able to notice something that Surana was not.

“Anyway,” Alistair’s voice interrupted, “my jawline isn’t uneven is it?”

Morrigan hummed. “Just an observation.”

“No way, you’re just trying to distract me. I’ll ask Surana, she’ll tell me the truth,” Alistair said. “Surana, is my jawline uneven?”

The air of silence that followed Alistair’s question was so thick and tense as Surana refused to even acknowledge that he was being spoken to. Not even Morrigan said anything more. 

“Ooookay,” Alistair mumbled after it became clear that the warden leader wasn’t going to respond.

Surana could see Zevran look at him from the corner of his vision but he kept walking. The sooner they got to the encampment, the better.

Everyone was somewhat used to Surana’s moodiness by this point. His bouts of silent anger had been a lot more frequent until Leliana noticed that he preferred being called by his last name instead of his first and everyone else had followed along. He couldn’t tell them why though. It made his throat close up whenever he even considered it.

His given name was ugly. Feminine. It was a name for a woman, which he was not. Last names were easier though, genderless. At least when they called him Surana he could pretend that they saw him differently. It was ruined when they referred to him wrongly, however. No matter how many times he told himself it was simply because they just didn’t know, Surana couldn’t help but feel somewhat resentful. He knew Alistair and Morrigan weren’t being malicious, would never be towards Surana, but every instance of someone referring to him as anything but a man felt like a personal attack. 

Surana was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard Zevran clear his throat pointedly.

“I believe we’re here,” he said. “Better lose that angry scowl of yours before the Dalish think you’re here to kill them all.” Zevran grinned easily at the warden. 

“It’ll be fine,” Surana replied quietly, his hand found Barkspawn’s head easily and he scratched behind the war hound’s ears. The big dog’s presence was comforting to Surana.

“Stop right there, outsider.” A voice boomed from in front of them and Surana looked up to see a Dalish woman walking towards them. Her bow was already drawn on Surana in warning. “The Dalish have camped here, I suggest you go elsewhere.”

Surana opened his palms to her as a gesture of trust. “We’re actually here for the Dalish. My friend and I are grey wardens, we need to speak to your leader.” He tried to hide how much his hands were shaking with anxiety.

The elf lowered her bow a fraction in response. “Grey Wardens? Prove it.” Surana heard Morrigan huff impatiently behind him.

“What would I gain from such a lie?” Surana asked. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.” 

She looked away from Surana and his party to glance at the two nearby elves watching. They nodded at her.

“I suppose you make a good point. Come with me then, I’ll take you to the Keeper.” She placed the arrow she’d been aiming at him back where it had been before as she turned around. “Keep your hands to yourselves, try anything and we won’t hesitate to shoot you.” Surana believed her threat.

“Understood,” he replied. He found himself releasing a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding in.

“A friendly bunch, aren’t they?” Alistair quietly said as he moved to walk next to Surana.

Surana glanced over at the taller warden. “Just no smart-ass comments. We don’t need to give them a reason to stick an arrow through you,” Surana said.

Alistair feigned an offended expression although he couldn’t manage to keep a grin off his face. “How dare you! I am the perfect picture of a well-mannered gentleman.”

“By all means Alistair, keep that up and perhaps the Dalish will do us all a favour,” Morrigan called from behind them. 

Surana gave Alistair a small smile. “Just… let me do the talking, okay?”

“Alright, just for you.” Alistair reached down to pet Barkspawn as they continued to trail behind the Dalish ranger who still hadn’t given them her name.

“Actually, you too Morrigan. Please don’t insult them,” Surana said turning his head to look at the apostate.

She rolled her eyes. “Very well,” was all she said in response.

Zevran hummed. “I’m the only one who doesn’t get a warning? I’m hurt.”

“I should have just brought Leliana and Wynne instead,” Surana grinned at Zevran. “Less likely to cause a diplomatic incident with the Dalish than you three.”

Zevran waved his hand in dismissal. “She’s an angel but Leliana would have said something about elves in Orlais and somehow manage to insult every Dalish here,” he retorted not unkindly. “Actually, I think I’d pay to see that.”

Before Surana could respond, the elf they’d been following turned to their group.

“I will go find the keeper, do not move.” She glared at them before leaving them to their own devices.

Surana looked around. The encampment they’d arrived at was larger than he’d expected and busier. He could see Dalish preparing ingredients for a dish, one woman in the middle of skinning rabbits she’d caught, an older man currently whittling something Surana couldn’t make out. It was lively, and nothing like anything he’d heard about it in the Circle.

“Not what I expected at all,” Alistair noted, echoing Surana’s thoughts. 

“And what did you expect?” Morrigan asked. “Wait, don’t answer. We don’t need some elf overhearing whatever insulting thing you were going to say and deciding to have us all thrown out.” She bared her teeth in a smug grin when Alistair squinted at her angrily.

“Andaran atish’an! Welcome!” A voice from behind them called and Surana turned around to see a pair of elves walking towards them.

“Welcome to our camp,” the taller one who had called out said. “I’m Nellassan, this is Adalya.” 

“It’s so strange seeing outsiders here,” Adalya told them.

“Thank you, I’m Warden Surana. These are my companions,” Surana gestured to his friends. “You’re a lot politer than the ranger we came in with.”

“Oh, Mithra? She just takes her job very seriously is all,” Nellassan smiled reassuringly. “Everyone’s been a bit more on edge these days too. Anyway, you say you’re a warden? As in a grey warden?”

“Yes. Actually, Alistair here is one too.” Surana briefly wondered if he was being too formal with these elves.

Alistair grinned at them proudly, earning a quiet snort from Morrigan.

“The other two are Zevran and Morrigan, they’ve been helping us with stopping the Blight,” Surana said.

“Wow, I suppose you must have some important business with our keeper then!” Adalya looked at them with open curiosity, Surana thought she couldn’t have been older than sixteen. 

“Yes, quite important business,” Surana said with a polite smile.

“Say, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you get those scars from? Some bizarre bear attack? Jilted ex-lover?” Alistair nodded his head towards Nellassan. The shirtless elf had two peculiar scars just under his pecs, they looked old but were still prominent. 

Surana jumped in immediately. “I apologise, Alistair was raised by wild dogs. No manners.” He shot Alistair a warning look, but he couldn’t say that he wasn’t curious either, however.

“Hey, it’s a perfectly valid question!” Alistair said, Nellassan only laughed warmly.

“It’s ok, warden. No offense taken,” Nellassan told Surana. “They are from a procedure I once had, some of our healers and our _ghilansal_ did it for me.” Nellassan looked bashful. “I, uh, am not sure how to translate ghilansal for you,” he said.

“I believe it’s closest translation may be ‘practitioner of medicine’,” Morrigan spoke up. “I’m assuming this ghilansal person does not use magic.”

Nellassan beamed at Morrigan. “Yes! Anyway, I am surprised none of you know what they are for. Do you not have those who are _shirarevas_?” He asked.

“I think… I may be more confused than before I asked the question,” Alistair murmured.

“What’s shirarevas?” Surana asked, the elvhen word felt strange rolling off his tongue. 

“It refers to people who have found themselves as a different gender than what their parents thought at birth. Sometimes people who are shirarevas will help their bodies show that through medicinal means,” Nellassan gestured at his chest, “or sometimes they are content not to.” 

Surana froze. Was that what he was? He’d never even considered that there could others who felt the same as him, his hands began to tremble again.

“Interesting,” Morrigan hummed. “Is this common among the Dalish?”

“It has been observed in all races actually!” Adalya chirped. “We have had humans, dwarves, and other elves approach us interested in treatment.”

“I knew a woman like that once, I never considered if there was a word for it though.” Zevran sounded thoughtful but Surana could barely hear him over the ringing of his ears.

“I still think a bear attack would have been a cooler story, but the truth is good too,” Alistair said. Both Nellassan and Adalya laughed at his comment, much to Alistair’s delight.

It felt like his jaw was glued shut, like if Surana tried to say anything no sound would crawl out of his throat. All he could do right now was focus on making sure no one around him noticed his reaction.

Surana wished he could be swallowed up by the ground as soon as he made eye contact with Nellassan, who only looked at the warden with what appeared to be a quiet surprise. He clenched his fists into balls at his sides and immediately looked away.

He heard someone walking over to them and looked over to see that Mithra had returned, still stony-faced and wary.

“Keeper Zathrian will speak to you now,” she said before her eyes slid over to where Nellassan and Adalya were standing. “Stay away from the outsiders until Zathrian has decided what to do with them.” She began walking away again.

Surana forced his legs to move to follow her but felt a warm hand on his shoulder that stopped him, it was Nellassan.

“After you have finished speaking to the Keeper, please find me.” He smiled at Surana before turning away to go after Adalya. 

Surana let out a shaky breath as Alistair came over to him.

“You okay?” He asked, more serious than Surana had seen him all day.

“I’m fine,” Surana managed to croak out. “Let’s go.”

Alistair didn’t look at all convinced but nodded his head and started making his way the same direction Mithra had gone. Surana followed after him. He somehow found the strength to shove down his internal distress so that he could speak with Zathrian.

The Keeper was a stern but polite man and Surana felt guilty for barely being able to focus on the conversation, as serious as it was. He kept his answers brief and agreed to help Zathrian in stopping the werewolves, if the Keeper noticed anything was wrong he had thankfully chosen to ignore it.

Eventually they were let go, much to Alistair’s visible relief. While Morrigan was often impatient and annoyed, Alistair instead struggled to maintain his attention span even in important matters.

Surana tried to discreetly glance around for any sign of Nellassan or Adalya while Alistair asked about equipment repairs. He spotted the tall elf speaking to an elderly woman who was sitting down in the shade of a caravan, he was acutely aware of Zevran moving to stand next to him.

“So, are you going to speak to him or just stare until he notices?” Zevran asked, Surana tried not to let the surprise show on his face.

“What are you talking about, Zev?” Surana asked, almost defensive. 

The rogue elf only smiled at him. “Nothing gets past me, I am very perceptive,” Zevran nodded in mock seriousness. “In all honesty though, it kind of explains a lot.” 

Surana turned his stare towards the ground. “This just feels too good to be true,” he muttered, confirming what Zevran was silently asking – _you’re like him, aren’t you?_

“Maybe it’s just the universe making it up to you for the past few months,” Zevran nudged him with an elbow. “Shoo.”

He started walking towards Nellassan, feeling Zevran’s gaze on his back. 

As he approached, Nellassan turned his attention from the older woman to him.

“Finished speaking to the keeper?” he asked. 

Surana crossed his arms self-consciously. “For now.”

Nellassan grinned at him. “I’d like you to meet Shaewen, she is our ghilansal.” He gestured to the woman still sitting, she looked to be about Wynne’s age.

“I, uh, noticed how you reacted.” Nellassan almost looked awkward. “I know we’re known for being quite private and closed off, but this is something we never deny from any outsider who asks of it.”

“Ask of… what exactly?” Surana’s heart felt like it was trying to crawl up out of his mouth. He tried to look unbothered.

“For us to help you, ah, what is the word you would use...” Nellassan trailed off as he tried to think.

“I believe the word would be transition,” Shaewen supplied.

“Yes! Only if you chose to though! There are a few things we can offer.” 

“There is a salve that is used. It helps to encourage body changes. It is quite easy to make with even basic herbalism skills,” Shaewen told him. “I can get one of the herbalists to make you a batch.”

Surana stared at them, speechless.

“Did I misjudge?” Nellassan sounded slightly panicked after a beat of silence from Surana. “I apologise, I just saw your face and I assumed…”

“No,” Surana cleared his throat when his voice came out rough, “I think you assumed right. I just… don’t really know how to process this. 

“Oh, I went too fast, didn’t I? I suppose I should have eased you into this,” Nellassan said apologetically. 

Shaewen rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been too eager for your own good,” she told him playfully. “Sit down, warden.” Shaewen gestured to a seat near her and Surana sat down. 

“Can I ask you something?” Surana said to Nellassan who nodded in reply. “When did you… know?” 

Nellassan looked thoughtful. “I’ve always known, I think. As soon as I was old enough I was telling everyone who’d listen to me.” Shaewen snorted as Nellassan continued. “I think it’s easier to come to terms with something if you never felt like you had to hide it. What about you?”

“Uh,” Surana tried not to fidget with his hands, “when I started developing, I guess. I’d never really felt comfortable with myself before that but when everything started changing, it all felt wrong. Like some kind of mistake. Hearing my own name became even more unbearable,” he said. 

“Did you ever try to tell anyone?” Nellassan asked. 

Surana furrowed his brows. “I remember I tried to tell one of the senior mages I trusted, he just told me not to bring it up again. I think he was worried the templars would hear about it.”  
“Where were you raised?”

“The Circle of Magi. They, uh, raise anyone who has magical abilities. I started living at the tower when I was a child.” Nellassan frowned at that.

“Do you not know your family?” he asked.

Surana felt his cheeks flush warm at the barrage of questions. “They didn’t let us send letters to our families.” 

“You are losing focus, Nellassan,” Shaewen interrupted. 

“Oh, right.” Nellassan laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I don’t know very much about Fereldan culture. Do you want to know anything else?” he asked. 

“Yeah actually, how am I supposed to tell my companions this?” Surana refused to look anywhere other than the ground. 

Nellassan was quiet, for so long so that Surana wondered if he’d left but he looked up and saw the Dalish elf looking at him.

“It seems like they care about you a great deal, especially the other grey warden.” Nellassan smiled reassuringly. “They may not understand at first, but they’ll support you. It will be okay.”

Surana was unsure how to reply. It was what he’d wanted to hear but it hadn’t really made him feel any better about it. The thought of being vulnerable for any reason made his skin crawl uneasily. 

“Shirarevas doesn’t have a direct translation but it started as two words. Shiral, meaning journey, and revas, freedom,” Shaewen said gently. “We do not see this as a burden or as something shameful. To find or to become yourself is something to be celebrated, it is something you deserve, warden. Do not let anyone keep you from yourself.” 

Surana stared at her, stunned. Years of dealing with these feelings in isolation, of being terrified that his entire life was going to be nothing but this angry loneliness and confusion, made it almost impossible for Surana to process this. To process the idea that he could ever be happy with himself.

“After you have finished with the Keeper’s request, come back to me. I will have the salve and its instructions ready, you are a herbalist, yes?” Shaewen asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Surana mumbled, dazed.

“Then you should have no trouble recreating it for yourself. You can start it whenever you’re ready, if you decide to start it at all. It is your choice.” Shaewen began to stand up when Surana cleared his thought.

“What about the, um,” Surana nodded his head towards Nellassan’s chest. Shaewen smiled.

“After you have finished fighting this Blight I would be happy to do that for you. You will need to rest for a few weeks after it, which I assume you are unable to do with your current duties,” Shaewen said.

Surana tried not to let the disappointment show on his face as he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, “truly.”

“You’d better go back to your friends, warden. I don’t know how much longer Adalya can entertain them with her rock collection,” Nellassan told him with a laugh. Surana turned around, expecting Nellassan to be joking, but he could see Adalya holding up a pair of rocks that Alistair was pretending to be interested in while Barkspawn sniffed at them. Surana smiled. 

“I suppose I’d better,” he said as he watched Alistair lift one of Adalya’s rocks up toward the sun and inspect it. He tried not to think about how this would change Alistair’s feelings about him. 

Camp was quiet, for the first time since they’d left the Dalish encampment about a week ago. Sten, Wynne, and Leliana had barely believed what had happened when Surana and the others had told them. Werewolves were hard enough to believe, but the Keeper’s connection to them made it feel like a bizarre tale that you would tell to scare children.  
Surana felt terrible for the Dalish, now having to deal with the loss of their Keeper, regardless of what he’d done. Morrigan, on the other hand, had regarded the whole ordeal with a clinical fascination that Surana couldn’t understand at all.

They’d started their trek to Orzammar, the location for the last of the treaties they were utilizing, but it was a long trip between the darkspawn and bandits as well as the constant barbs Surana’s companions were throwing at each other. He’d kept the salve in his pack the entire time, trying to work up the courage to use it while also pointedly ignoring Zevran’s knowing looks. 

Tonight, however, he was going to do it. He’d decided. Everyone was either too tired or too preoccupied to bother Surana with anything and he just couldn’t wait any longer. He needed this.

He stared at his pack, where the salve was hiding, from his rolled-out bedroll. It still felt like a surreal dream to Surana.

“Uh, hey. Still awake?”

Surana’s eyes jerked to the entrance to his tent where Alistair was sheepishly poking his head in. 

“Sorry, I’ll leave if you want. I just don’t think I’ll be falling asleep anytime soon and everyone outside looks like they’ll murder me if I interrupt them,” Alistair said with an apologetic grin. Surana couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“It’s fine, I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep either.” Surana sat up and patted the empty space next to him. “Sit down then.”

Alistair sighed dramatically as he sat himself down. “How far are we to Orzammar anyway?”

“I think we’ll reach Lake Calenhad tomorrow,” Surana said. “Depending on how early we start.” He removed a cord of leather from his wrist to tie his hair up with as Alistair nodded in uncharacteristic silence. 

Surana swore softly after the second time he was unable to tie it without pieces of his hair falling out, he still wasn’t used to having to do it. He’d been more than content to leave it down at the Circle.

“Here, let me try.” Alistair reached for the tie and Surana handed it over, too tired to get defensive. 

He turned his head away from Alistair, letting him sweep his hair up in his hands. Surana’s ears flicked every time Alistair’s hands brushed against them and he tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks because of it. Alistair twisted his hair into a messy bun before wrapping the thin cord around it.

“There you go! I’m practically a master at this now,” Alistair said, “I guess that’s why they call me Lord Alistair the Slayer of Hair.” He only laughed when Surana raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“Thanks,” he said, tucking a couple of strands behind his ears. “I’m not going to acknowledge that terrible joke though,” Surana said, but he was still smiling.

“That’s okay, your smile is all the acknowledgement I need,” Alistair replied, making Surana’s face burn even hotter. 

He looked away, self-conscious. Surana wanted whatever this was so badly, to be honest about his feelings and to have his feelings returned. He’d kept everyone in his life at arm’s length because refusing to be close with people meant he’d never have to consider telling anyone about himself. It was lonely, but it was safe, and far less confronting. Surana hated confrontation, hated anything that would give someone the chance to hurt him. Even just with words. But now, he’d let Alistair in and here he was. It wasn’t yet love but it was _something_. And Surana was going to have to potentially ruin it.

“You’re doing an awful lot of frowning suddenly, what are you thinking about?” Alistair interrupted his thoughts, sounding concerned.

“I don’t think it’s strange for me to be frowning so much considering our circumstances,” Surana said quietly.

“True,” Alistair considered, “but you’ve been acting differently since we met the Dalish.”

Surana sighed, unsure how to respond. He felt Alistair place a warm hand on top of Surana’s left hand and his stomach burst with warmth.

“I know I joke a lot, but I can be serious if I need to be,” Alistair said, “especially for you.”

“It’s just… hard to talk about.” Surana clenched his fists in frustration and Alistair’s hand tightened around his left one slightly. They were both silent for a moment.

“To me, it feels like there’s some kind of barrier for you, between us and you. Something you can’t tell us, and it frustrates you doesn’t it? Is that why you’re so prickly sometimes?” Alistair asked, now rubbing his thumb in small circles against Surana’s hand. Surana nodded without looking at him.

“Do you remember that man we spoke to at the Dalish camp? Nellassan?” Surana said, trying to control the nerves in his voice.

Alistair laughed softly. “The one who’s little sister was really really really into rocks?”

Surana couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. But, uh, I think I’m,” he forced his shaking voice out of his throat knowing he couldn’t go back on this now, “I think I’m like him.”

The tent was silent, deafeningly so. Alistair’s thumb stilled and Surana refused to look away from the patch of dirt he was drilling into with his stare. It felt like he’d been sitting there for hours frozen before Alistair said something.

“Like how he’s, uh, what’s the word. Shirevals? Shirevas?” Alistair asked.

“Shirarevas,” Surana murmured.

“So… you’re a man is what you’re trying to tell me?” Alistair said, his hand still resting on top of Surana’s.

“Yes,” Surana managed to say despite the invisible force constricting his throat and chest, desperately trying to make him stop. He almost felt dizzy, he couldn’t remember a time he’d ever exposed himself to someone like this. It felt like Alistair was holding his heart in his hands.

Alistair was quiet again, it was unnerving to Surana who usually couldn’t shut him up even if he wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Alistair eventually said, “just… for all the times I called you a woman. No wonder you only liked us calling you by your last name. I thought it was just a weird thing about formalities when you’d get mad at anyone using your first name.” Alistair laughed softly. “I kind of thought you had a stick up your ass honestly.”

“You’re reacting better than I thought you would,” Surana said. He still hadn’t looked at Alistair.

“Well, I mean I don’t really understand but I guess that’s just because I don’t know anything about it. I want to understand though, I want to be here for you.” Alistair’s voice was quiet, contemplative. If anyone had told Surana before this that Alistair was capable of being so serious about something, he would have laughed in their face. 

“Does it change anything about us though?” Surana asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Uh, us?” Alistair laughed nervously.

Surana finally forced himself to look at Alistair, he was staring back at Surana, his cheeks reddening from the question.

“Don’t tell me my feelings were one-sided,” Surana said. Alistair blinked owlishly at him before clearing his throat.

“They… they aren’t. I just didn’t expect you to have noticed,” Alistair told him.

“You’re terrible at being subtle.”

Alistair pouted. “Aw, come on! It’s hard to be when you smile like that,” he said.

“Like what?” Surana asked, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“Like that! It just reminds me that I’m stuck with the handsomest elf in Thedas and I can’t do anything about it,” Alistair said. His fingers moved so that they were between Surana’s, clasping his clammy hand tightly. 

Surana laughed deliriously with relief. “Handsomest?” he asked.

“Yes! And in case I haven’t made it clear yet, no this doesn’t change anything about us. Why would it?” Alistair looked so determined, it made Surana want to kiss the expression off his face. He almost berated himself for thinking like that before reminding himself that it was okay now, he was allowed to want that.

“I just assumed you were only interested in women honestly,” Surana said.

Alistair smiled, almost shyly. “Well, uh, surprise then I guess? I don’t really have a preference,” he replied. “I think you might be the first person I’ve ever told.” 

Surana’s eyes widened as Alistair turned his head to look away. “Wow, thank you for telling me,” Surana brought his free hand over to place on top of Alistair and his intertwined hands. “I’m proud of you,” he said sincerely.

The expression on Alistair’s face was endearingly awkward, Surana couldn’t help but beam at him.

“Yes, well,” Alistair paused to clear his throat, “anyway! Does this mean you’re going by a new name?”

“Uh,” Surana hadn’t considered that. “I don’t have any ideas but that would… be really good actually,” Surana said.

“I personally think you should change your name to Sten to annoy him but that’s just my opinion,” Alistair said with a grin.

“Ok, comedy king, calm down,” Surana told him, but he was smiling as he said it. His eyes drifted over to his satchel in the corner of the tent as he remembered what he’d been planning on doing tonight. He felt Alistair’s gaze follow.

“You’re not going to tell me you stole Adalya’s rock collection next, are you?” Alistair asked.

Surana stared at the bag for a moment before extricating his hands from Alistair’s so that he could grab it. The salve felt heavy in his sweaty hands. 

“The clan’s ghilansal gave this to me,” Surana murmured, “she said it would help my body change to how it should be.” He rolled it around in his hands nervously.

“So how does it work? You don’t have to eat it do you?” Alistair asked, Surana snorted in response.

“It’s a salve, you put it on your skin. Apparently, I just put it on my back and chest once a week,” Surana said. He found it easier to talk about now, the words coming to him with more ease.

Alistair took the salve from Surana’s hands and inspected it for himself, his nose scrunching up when he smelled the potent elfroot in it. 

“I can help if you want,” Alistair said after a beat of silence, “or I can leave so you can do it privately.”

Surana considered it, his back was going to be troublesome to do by himself. “Alright,” he said slowly. “But I’m keeping my back to you the entire time.” 

“Understood,” Alistair told him with a reassuring smile. He placed the salve on the ground near them as Surana turned himself, so he was facing away from him. Already, it was an oddly vulnerable feeling.

He pulled his shirt over his head, the open air on his back feeling foreign right now. Surana placed it on his lap. 

“So, do I just, uh, put it all over?” Alistair asked from behind him, sounding awkward.

“You just need to make sure it’s rubbed in,” Surana told him, his face growing hot. Neither of them had thought this through at all. He reached over to the pot of salve and scooped some up with a hand, it was shockingly cold on his skin. 

“Right, ok. Yep.” He saw Alistair’s hand from the corner of his vision dipping into the salve and it suddenly struck him how different everything was going to be now. There was a sense of relief about it that he’d never thought he’d feel. The salve was freezing on his back but eventually became a warmth that seeped into his skin the more Alistair massaged it. Surana did the same with his chest and the feelings of self-consciousness he had about being shirtless eventually melted into a comfortable silence.

“I think that’s enough. Thank you,” Surana said and he felt Alistair’s hands withdraw from him, allowing him to put his shirt back on.

He turned around, picking up the salve and putting it back in his satchel. There was still enough for at least another 2 weeks. They’d be in Orzammar by then and he could pick up the herbs needed for a new batch there. Surana glanced up at Alistair, who was looking at him with a sort of sleepy fondness that it made his breath catch in his throat. 

“Thank you, honestly.” Surana was so quiet that Alistair had to lean in to hear him, his tired eyes not leaving his. Months of private smiles for only each other, of soft eyes and clasped hands in mournful conversations, of teasing flirtations during nights of drinking, of knowing that no one would understand them better than each other, the two grey wardens against it all. All of it overwhelmed Surana, months of toeing the line between friendship and romance and now that line didn’t matter anymore. He kissed Alistair.

Alistair was warm, the itch of his stubble not even registering in Surana’s mind as he brought his hands up to his face. It felt like the sun itself was bursting out of him, wild and bright and hopeful. He rubbed his thumbs across Alistair’s cheekbones as he eventually pulled away and rested his forehead on his. Surana couldn’t help but beam at him.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asked, half asleep but with a warmth blossoming in his chest. 

“I, uh, I don’t think I’m ready for that to be honest.” Alistair huffed out a laugh and his placed his own hands on top of Surana’s.

“I just meant sleep with me. That’s all,” Surana said and Alistair smiled.

“Oh? Alright, I think I can manage that,” Alistair said as he moved away from Surana to take off his boots. Surana rolled onto the bedroll, the exhaustion from the day’s hiking finally hitting him as he closed his eyes.

Alistair soon joined him, stretching his arms around the elf and sighing heavily in relief when he finally let himself lie down. Surana snaked an arm of his own across Alistair’s waist, relishing the feeling of having him here next to him, peaceful and content despite everything they’d been through so far. No matter what happened next, Surana knew he could trust Alistair to stand by him. It was a new feeling to him, but a good one.

“Hey Alistair,” Surana mumbled into his chest, half expecting him to already be asleep.

“Mhm?” 

“Don’t think this means I’ll take your side the next time you and Morrigan fight.” He felt Alistair’s chest vibrate with a soft laugh before a small kiss was placed on his forehead.

“Good night,” Alistair said.

"Good night."


End file.
